The Land of Always Winter
by AspiringInWriting
Summary: The Land of Westeros is a large and mysterious place, but how mysterious is 'The Land of Always Winter' and what secrets lie there?
1. Chapter 1 - Darreth Staedmon I

**DARRETH STAEDMON**

I rode with two of my fellow brothers, Kierat Tyde and Jardan Blackwood – two men from the Night's Watch, just as I was. I was a Ranger, sent out with the others to get word as to where the Wildling's were invading as of present. I came from Deepwood Motte, a shit-stain of a village on the top of a hill which smelt of piss and horse shit. My Father was sent down to Kings Landing as a Kingsguard for King Joffrey Baratheon, but by the sounds of the recent news of The Purple Wedding he did not fulfil his duty as Kingsguard; I suspect that he will be executed by the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister in the near future. Who was he? I don't know. I can't remember who he was. I can't even remember my Mother, my own Mother; my flesh and blood. She got sent down somewhere as a whore, possibly murdered – one of the two. As for my siblings, they're all still in Deepwood Motte; drinking piss from nearby rivers, whatever's left of them and most likely discovering dead babies in wells whilst I'm here – at The Wall forever, trying to find missing ranger's in the middle of the night.

"What if we see an Ice Dragon?"  
"Don't say that, Tyde! We might scare Staedmon!"  
Kierat and Jardan laughed together and I rolled my eyes, forcing a smile on my face as I glared at them. "Enough, you two!" I laughed slightly as Kierat slid over to me, putting his arm around me; pulling me in close.  
"What's the matter, Staedmon? You're not scared, are you?" He joked.  
I pushed him away from me, rolling my eyes as I said, "No I'm not scared, Tyde! I'm just keeping an eye out on—You know? Wildlings and that."  
"You honestly think that we'll see a Wildling twenty yards from here, Staedmon? You're having a laugh!" Laughed Tyde.  
"Enough of the mocking now, Tyde. He's not used to this, yet anyway." Said Blackwood, she seemed to be smirking a little.

I was always mocked by the rest of the Crows, possibly due to my age. I was the youngest of the Night's Watch, only being Ten Years Old – but I knew how to wield a sword. I knew how to fight. My Uncle taught me, from the moment I was Six Years Old until the day he left, so I was skilled in training. I fought off people in the Night's Watch; apart from The Bastard himself, Jon Snow amongst several I could never beat.

We entered a nearby Forest, _"The Haunted Forest" _I believe it's called. That's a lie, I KNOW that it's called _"The Haunted Forest" _for many reasons, too. Crows squawked amongst the Forest, about ten dozen of them flew ahead of the three of us. Blackwood and Tyde watched, their faces going pale – and not from the cold. My face was always described as pale, as white as snow. My hair was black, but in the light it went brown. Why? I don't know. I'm not sure. My Mother's hair was like that too, though.  
"Don't you know what the Crows mean; what they're a sign for?" Questioned Blackwood. I turned, noticing he was staring at me. I shrugged my shoulders, although I really did know what they meant. "They usually appear, fly in the Forests before A White Walker appears."

The trees began to rustle, as though they were whispering to each other. "It's coming!" They rustled in my imagination. "It's here." They swayed. The air became much colder, although it was at freezing temperature in the air as it was. More crows sored through the Forest, flying past us; I stood, not covering my eyes for protection. Tyde covered his eyes, as much as I could see; but I saw no sign of Blackwood amongst the Crows. I saw a shadow further into the Forest, it had hair I saw, long hair. The crows began to calm down, fading away; I noticed that Blackwood had disappeared. Tyde was screaming, shouting at the ground as blood covered the snow-floor. I slowly stepped towards the shadowy-figure, the shadow was turned away from me as Tyde's screams continued to echo behind me. I grabbed hold of the shadow's shoulder, turning them around to me; it was Elrie. It was my little sister Elrie! What in the Seven Hells was she doing here, out at The Wall?

As I opened my mouth, about to ask Elrie what she was doing here, I noticed something strange about her. I removed my hand from her shoulder, putting it on the back of her head; seeing blood covering it as I took it away again. I noticed that Elrie's face was paler than usual, it was snow-white. "Elrie, what—What are you doing here?" I asked her, hearing something rustling in the ground; as though something had forced itself out from it. Elrie looked at me, tears filling her eyes; her eyes going from blue to crystal-white. She opened her mouth.  
"I'm sorry." A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked behind my shoulder. I slowly turned, seeing Blackwood's lifeless body on the floor, losing ounces of blood as Tyde cried at his body screaming, "NO! NO, BLACKWOOD! NO!" Tears streamed down Tyde's cheek as I turned to Elrie again.  
"What is it, Elrie? What—What's happened?" I asked her, feeling tears fill my eyes.  
"The Others." She whispered, before she got pulled through into the ground; screaming aloud. I turned again, seeing a White Walker stood behind Tyde. I opened my mouth, shouting Tyde's name, but nothing came out. Something from the ground grabbed hold of my leg, and as I got pulled through the ground as Elrie did, I watched as the White Walker behead Tyde. As I got pulled through the ground, I saw one thing.

**Darkness.**

**_WHO'S POV WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE? (From the TV Series)? Oberyn Martell? Loras Tyrell? Myrcella Baratheon? Jorah Mormont? Let me know your thoughts and what you WANT below!_**


	2. Chapter 2 - Ariyana Caswell I

**ARIYANA CASWELL**

I got escorted to the dungeons of The Dreadfort by two Bolton men. I heard screams from behind doors as we passed them, most of them being men – if not, all of them. I looked at one of the Bolton men, "Where are you taking me?" I asked him. He remained silent, staring onwards. I went back to silence, looking forward again. I felt like a soldier, just like my Father. Although, I'm not too sure you can call an Unsullied _"a Soldier"_.

I never knew my Mother, nor do I know if I have any other brothers or sisters than the one which I know of, Ryden. Ryden was a well-trusted soldier of Ramsay Bolton—Or should I say 'Ramsay Snow'? He never liked being addressed as 'Snow', which made things incredibly complicated. But I was always in his care, in Ramsay's care, because of his trust for Ryden. Ryden was loyal, he was brave, and he was strong – just like our Father. Although, I'd rather not speak of my relative who is an Unsullied. It brings me shame. If my Mother was not a Highborn as what people say she is, I would be in a brothel of some sort by now, getting fucked or slaughtered by some man-beast. Luckily, the Bolton's came to save me, me and my brother Ryden. We got caught up by ten Wildlings, Ramsay took nine of them down, capturing one, taking her back to the Dreadfort as a toy he could fuck on a daily basis. I wouldn't be surprised if Ramsay had put fifty-dozen children inside of her by now, the number of times I've heard that woman scream is unbelievable!

One of the men slowly opened a door in front of me into a dungeon, it was the same size as what Reek's _"home" _was – the man which Ramsay had captured. There was a man locked onto planks of wood; nails through both of his hands and feet. Ramsay stood beside the man whose face was covered by a bag. "Ah, Ariyana! It's wonderful to see you!" Said Ramsay as he approached me, giving me a smooth kiss on the cheek. I gave him a warm smile in which he responded, "I have some business for you to take care of, Ariyana. Some important—Flaying—Business." Ramsay informed me as he turned to the body; it was untouched. Just a few battle scars, wounds. Ramsay clicked his fingers at one of the men. The men uncovered a range-variety of weapons, from spears, to knives and much more; weapons which I'd never seen before. I began to walk over to the weapons as Ramsay grabbed hold of my arm, holding me back.  
"What are you doing, Lord Ramsay?" I asked him.  
"Are you sure that you want to do this, Ariyana?" He asked me, in which I nodded.  
"What if this man here, is somebody that you love?" He tested me, "Like your Father? What if we captured your Father?"  
"I wouldn't hold myself back, Lord Ramsay. I would stay loyal. I would stay loyal to you." I replied.  
Ramsay smiled at me, stroking his fingers down my hair. He nodded at the weapons and I approached them, picking up a knife; quickly turning and approaching the body again, Ramsay stopped me once again, standing beside the body; grabbing hold of the bag covering the man's head.  
"Where do you want to start flaying him, Ariyana?" He asked me; stroking the man's hair through the bag covering his head. I stared at him puzzled. "How about you cut his cock off; feed it to the dogs? Or—Why don't you chop some fingers off? His feet, maybe? How about you just finish the job quickly? Although, that's no fun. Me and my men here, we want a show. And I have no doubt that you can give us a good one."  
I stared at him puzzled, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know, I—We'll see."  
"About if this was somebody who you loved; if it was—Would you do it? Would you flay him?" Ramsay questioned me. I stared at him, my mind going blank. What was he talking about? It couldn't be Ryden—Could it? Ramsay grabbed hold of the bag, taking it off from the man's head; revealing the person who I prayed it wasn't, it was my brother. It was Ryden.

For a moment, I felt my heart stop. I felt—I felt my whole world fall apart around me. I put my hand on my chest, stepping back; I dropped the knife in which Ramsay laughed slightly, shaking his head.  
"No. No. No. No backing out now, Ariyana. You need to flay him." Ramsay ordered.  
One of the Bolton men approached me, in which I shook my head. "No. No, I can pick it up myself. It's just the—It's just the shock, that's all."  
Ramsay nodded at the Bolton man, in which he returned to his post. Ramsay approached me, looking at Ryden. "Do you know what he did?" He questioned me. Before I could reply, he scoffed, "No of course you don't know. You don't know what your brother did. He, my 'loyal friend', he's been working for an enemy of ours, Ariyana. Which enemy, you don't need to know, but your brother; he's a traitor."  
"No. No, Ryden is no traitor." I argued, "I know him. I know my brother. He is the most honourable man in Westeros, Lord Ramsay." I felt my eyes filling up with tears.  
Ramsay bent down, picking up the knife, standing up again; forcing me to hold it. He put his mouth against my ear, "Either you flay him in the next five minutes, or I'll take you hunting. Do you want that, Ariyana?"  
I held the knife tightly, nodding my head. Ramsay looked at the two guards stood by the door, they opened the door. "Make sure that you lock the door behind you. I'll be back to make sure you've got the job done, Ariyana." The two men followed Ramsay out of the dungeon, they locked the door behind them. I approached Ryden, who was wounded; his face battered and bruised. I opened my mouth, no words came out. I bent down, vomiting on the floor at Ryden's feet, feeling the burn of it at the back of my throat.

I wiped the sick off from my face as I looked at Ryden, flicking my hair back; so that all my face showed. "What—What did you do?" I asked him.  
Ryden opened his mouth, "Nothing." He said weakly; almost in a whisper.  
"I—I'll let you out, Ryden. I'll—I'll set you free!" I said, not realising that tears were already streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed hold of Ryden's left hand; trying to take the nail out of it – it wouldn't budge.  
"It won't work, Ariyana. There's no point." Ryden cried.  
"Get out." I cried, "GET OUT! GET OUT OF HIM! GET OUT OF HIM!" I screamed as I gave up, slowly sliding down to my knees as I broke down in tears, feeling more tears stream down my cheeks like a waterfall. I heard screams coming from behind the door in the other dungeons, just like the one which me and my brother were in.  
"You have to do this, Ariyana. You have to make sure that you survive." Ryden cried, a tear rolled down his cheek and I stood up, putting my hand on his chest as tears streamed down my cheeks. I moved away from him, over to the stone-wall which was surrounding us, the four-walls.  
"Why?" I whispered quietly, clenching my fists.  
"Ariyana—"  
"WHY?!" I screamed, slamming my fists on the stone-wall. "WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!" I punched the wall repeatedly with my fists each time I questioned the situation  
"Ariyana, you have to do this. You have to do this for YOU!"  
I approached Ryden again, taking a deep breath.

"Cut my chest a few times, make me suffer."  
"What? Why?" I asked me.  
"Because you will please Lord Ramsay." Ryden explained. "You have to do this so that you can escape, Ariyana."  
"Escape?"  
"Yes. I—I know what's coming for you, Ariyana. A man will meet you in a cave, out in the Forests. Do you understand? Lord Ramsay will take you hunting with the Hounds." Ryden explained. It sounded unbelievable, but I trusted him. I nodded. "I love you, Ariyana." Ryden closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. I took a deep breath, letting out a scream as I flayed my brother, I did this a dozen times from one end of his body to the other. I looked at Ryden's neck, making it my next target; pushing the blade through it, as deep as it could go so that it could be a quick death. I felt more vomit come up, I held it back. I took a deep breath, forcing the blade into Ryden's wrist as I let out a scream, cutting the whole of his wrist off; Ryden's arm dropped, hanging down at the side of his body.

After a few minutes, Ramsay and his men walked in and I turned to them; my hands covered in blood. Ramsay smiled, clapping his hands as he approached me, putting his arm around me.  
"Clean up this room, men." Ramsay ordered as he led me out of the dungeon. As we walked he asked, "Do you like hunting, Ariyana?"  
My heart dropped, I nodded, "Yes, I—Yes, I do, Lord Ramsay."  
Ramsay smirked at me, "Good."  
Ramsay swung a nearby door open as laughter echoed down the corridor, I looked puzzled. "Lord Ramsay?" I looked at Ramsay, who was holding a blade in his hand. I heard barking nearing towards me, the laughter of a woman getting louder. "Better get hunting, Ariyana."  
"What—What are we hunting, Lord Ramsay?"  
"A girl."  
"Which girl?" I asked.  
"**Ariyana Caswell.**"


	3. Chapter 3 - Ranaenyra Galtheos I

**RANAENYRA GALTHEOS**

"What was Father like, Daeraron?"  
"You know what our Father is like, Ranaenyra; he was a well-respected man of Meereen"  
I shook my head, I don't think that my brother understands what I really mean. "No, Daeraron; what I mean is—What was our REAL Father like?"  
"That doesn't matter right now, does it? What matters is that we harvest these crops for the people of Meereen; the less-fortunate people."  
Daeraron took some wheat out from the field, his freshly-cut silver hair flicked across his forehead, his purple eyes gleaming in the heat of the boiling Sun. He took a carrot from his pocket, throwing it over to me, signalling an 'Eat it' look on his face. I took a bite in the carrot, my long-silver hair getting in the way. I was much younger than Daeraron, he was in his thirties, although to avoid him getting embarrassed I'd best not say his age, but I'm fourteen years old. My brother has done a fantastic job at bringing me up, ever since The Breaker of Chains released many people from slavery, having my Father crucified in the boiling hot Sun.

"How did we escape from the Battle of Trident?"  
"YOU didn't escape from the Battle of Trident, Ranaenyra. I did though. I helped Mother escape too, she had a long pregnancy which ranged for the duration of twenty-odd months."  
"TWENTY MONTHS?!" I questioned, expecting Daeraron to give me a sarcastic response.  
"Yes, twenty months. She was only two months pregnant when we fled the city, watched King Robert's rebellion explode in the Seven Kingdoms. I couldn't let you die, and most certainly not her."  
"Did she die in child-birth?" I asked. Daeraron stared at me, not giving me an answer.  
Daeraron clicked his fingers at me, "Get harvesting, Rananyra; you're lucky you're not in the long-line of Meereen; one of the slaves."  
I rolled my eyes, standing up, "I feel like a slave."  
"Enough of that." He stroked my hair with his fingers as he shook his head, "You really do need a haircut, you know?"  
I laughed slightly, taking his hand away from my hair.  
"MASTER GALTHEOS!" A voice called from a distance. We both turned to the direction of the voice, seeing an Unsullied rushing towards us. As he approached us, Daeraron shook his head; holding his hand out.  
"What are you doing here, Unsullied? We did not call for assistance."  
"The Breaker of Chains sent me here, Sir." The Unsullied stuttered.  
"You speak the common tongue?" Daeraron asked him, knowing the answer already.  
"Yes. Yes, I speak the common tongue." Daeraron stared at the Unsullied with a slight-smile on his face. "I got sent here to send you to The Great Pyramid of Meereen. Daenerys Targaryen asks for your presence."  
Daeraron nodded, "Right. Well, would you mind taking care of my sister? Bring her back before Sundown."  
"But, Daeraron; you never told me about Father, I—"  
"Look, if you're so desperate to know, then—Then I'll tell you back at our Pyramid, shall I?" Daeraron said to me, giving me a slight smile. I nodded as he gave me a warm-kiss on my forehead. He began to make his way back to Meereen.

The Unsullied harvested the crops as I sat on the rocks, reading a book I found in a chest in Meereen. I looked up, seeing The Unsullied grunting as threw the harvested crops into a nearby basket.  
"Would you like me to help you?" I asked him.  
"No, my Lady." The Unsullied replied, continuing to drop the crops into a basket.  
"What's your name?" I asked him, "At least tell me that."  
"My name is 'Mud Fly'" The Unsullied replied, not looking at me.  
I sniggered a little, trying to hide a smile. I found all of The Unsullied names quite amusing, although I know that I shouldn't. "That's a nice name." I lied, continuing to hide a laugh, and a smile.  
"My Father was murdered, right in front of me." He explained.  
I felt guilty about laughing now, "Why?"  
"Because he was a bad man."  
"Of course he isn't a bad man, he just—"  
"He was a bad man."  
"Look, what's your real name? It's just—I can't call you 'Mud Fly', that's not your real name." I said.  
"My real name is 'Mud Fly', my Lady."  
I shook my head, standing up; I stared at him madly.  
"No, I want your REAL name. What is your real name?! WHAT IS IT?!" I demanded an answer. He was staring at me strangely, horror filled his eyes. "What are you looking at me like that for?" I asked.  
"I'm not looking at YOU, my Lady. I'm looking at the creature behind you." He explained.  
I slowly turned around, seeing what Mud Fly was really looking at.

I'd never seen something so beautiful but yet so dangerous. The rumours were true about Dragon's, about Drogon. His scales were black, and his eyes were hypnotising. His eyes were red pits. He was analysing the area, analysing me. I began to step towards the wonderful creature.  
"Lady Galtheos? Lady Galtheos, where are you going?" Mud Fly called for me, but I ignored him.  
I approached Drogon, he felt like a prey, I shook my head as I held my hand out; pressing it against his scaley nose; he hissed a little before settling, I stroked his scales, shaking my head.  
"I won't hurt you." I told him, smiling. "I won't hurt you."  
"Lady Galtheos, I—"  
"Have you heard what it's like to ride a Dragon?" I asked Mud Fly, turning to him; he seemed alarmed.  
"No, I—Only certain people can ride Dragon's." Mud Fly explained.  
I shook my head, "Not this one."  
I grabbed hold of Drogon's scales, pulling myself up onto his back. Mud Fly watched as I climbed onto Drogon's back, hearing footsteps and voices in the distance rushing towards the Farm.

"RANAENYRA!" A voice called from a distance. "RANAENYRA!" Again. My mind went black as I looked down at Drogon's scales, stroking them smoothly.  
I looked up, noticing that the person rushing towards me was Daeraron, "RANAENYRA, GET OFF—"  
Before I could respond, or even react, it seemed that Drogon did before me; throwing me in the air as I let out a scream, falling onto the ground. Drogon's wings began to move; lifting him off from the ground as he let out a loud-earth tremoring roar. Daeraron rushed to my aid, putting his arm around me.  
"Daeraron, I—"  
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Daeraron shouted, forcing me up onto my feet. I was startled, almost stumbling back down. "WHAT WAS GOING ON IN YOUR HEAD, YOU STUPID—"  
"I'M SORRY!" I cried, "He was—He was fine, he was—"  
"He's not CALM, Ranaenyra!" He argued, shaking his head at me as tears filled his eye from the horror of which had happened, "HE'S A DRAGON!"  
With this, Drogon breathed in with his nostrils; opening his mouth, letting out flesh-burning flames onto the Farm.

Daeraron was leading me towards Meereen, in fact he was carrying me. I looked down at my silky dress, seeing tears in it from the fall of when Drogon flipped me off from his back. I looked down at my arms, seeing them covered in burns. I felt tears down my cheeks, I couldn't stop them from falling from my eyes.  
"D—Daeraron?" I asked, looking up at Daeraron as he stopped by a rock, I saw Meereen only meters away. I looked around. Where was Mud Fly? "Where's Mud Fly?" Daeraron looked over to where the Farm was, I heard Drogon's roars from behind the rock. "DAERARON, WHERE'S MUD—"  
"HE'S FIGHTING DROGON OFF, RANAENYRA!" Daeraron shouted, I'd never seen him so angry. So angry with me anyway.  
"I'm sorry, Daeraron, I—I didn't know that you shouldn't ride a Dragon, I—" I began to cry, although I was already crying unknowingly.  
Mud Fly appeared out of nowhere, hiding behind the rock. He was panting, breathing heavily; trying to get his breath back. Daeraron looked down at Mud Fly, "Take her back to Meereen, alright? Just—Just make sure that she's safe." He demanded. Mud Fly nodded as Daeraron rushed away from the rock towards Drogon.  
"Daeraron?"  
Mud Fly grabbed hold of my hand, pulling me to my feet; I was unable to stand, immediately falling back to the ground. Mud Fly watched as Daeraron approached Drogon. "COME ON THEN, BEAST!" I heard him shout.  
Mud Fly grabbed hold of me, holding me in his arms. As Mud Fly carried me over towards Meereen, rushing over to the city, I watched as Drogon breathed smoke into his nostrils once more as Daeraron stood before him. **I began to blackout as I saw my brother burn to nothing.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Loras Tyrell I

**LORAS TYRELL**

The High Septon greeted me at the door at The Great Sept of Baelor. I thanked him as I walked down the steps to King Joffrey's corpse laid in the middle of the Sept. I approached my Sister, standing a short distance behind her, I grabbed hold of her arm.  
"Margaery, I—"  
"Don't touch me, Loras." Margaery demanded as she pushed me away.  
"You're mourning, Margaery. You don't have to suffer in silence, you know?"  
"I know that." Margaery explained, "I'd just rather not have your sympathy, Loras."  
Margaery hadn't looked at me since I walked in.  
"Grandma was considering on going back to Highgarden in the fortnight, get away from this chaos."  
"I don't want to go back to Highgarden, Loras. I want to—" Margaery finally turned to me, noticing The High Septon stood by the door, he was distracted; speaking to a guard. "I want to be the Queen." She continued, making sure that her words did not echo in The Sept.  
"And Queen you shall be, Margaery. Queen you were. And remember that Tommen is still—"  
"Don't even suggest that I marry Tommen, Loras!" Margaery's voice became louder, "He's a CHILD! A GOOD child!"  
"And soon he will be King of the Seven Kingdoms, Margaery. Tommen will be Protector of the Realm, and you will be his bride if his Mother allows it."  
Margaery remained silent before she turned to Joffrey's corpse again.

Margaery took a deep breath, opening her mouth. She closed it. I knew that she wanted to say something to me.  
"Did you fuck him, too?" She asked.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Oberyn Martell. Did you fuck him, too; just like Renly?"  
I was stunned at her question, staring at her in my initial reaction, "Of course I haven't fucked him, Margaery. I haven't fucked am an ever since Renly—Ever since Renly DIED!"  
Margaery turned to me again, "I don't care if you have done, Loras." She explained. "I just wanted to see if you could be truthful with me."  
I stared at her puzzled, "Truthful?"  
"Varys' Little Birds saw you go into a nearby Brothel, they heard you and Oberyn doing what you and Renly used to do." Margaery explained, she couldn't even look at me in the eye, "What if people found out, Loras? What if Tywin Lannister found out?"  
"Then they can have me walk the street naked." I explained, "I don't care."  
I scoffed at her, staring at her madly as I stormed out from The Sept.

I returned to my chambers, slamming the door shut behind me.  
"Ser Loras?" A voice spoke from behind me, I turned around, seeing Mira Forrester – Margaery's handmaiden stood in front of me.  
"Mira?" I stared at her puzzled.  
"I'm sorry to walk in when you weren't present, Ser Loras, it's just—Lady Margaery; I'm worried about her."  
I began to pour some vintage Red Wine into a goblet, scoffing slightly, "Aren't we all?" I took a sip at the drink, taking in all flavours available in the Wine.  
"Ser Loras, has something—Has something happened?" She asked, she seemed genuinely concerned.  
"Varys has happened." I spoke under my breath, turning to her. "What are you doing here, Mira? I'm going to leave in a minute, get myself to the nearest Brothel which I can find."  
Mira remained silent and I rolled my eyes, putting the drink down as I made my way towards the door.  
"What about Queen Cersei, Ser Loras?" Mira asked, "What about your upcoming marriage, your Wedding?"  
I turned to her, scoffing; shaking my head at her. "There will be NO Wedding."  
I swung the door open, walking out of my chambers as I slammed the door behind me.

I made my way into the Brothel, expecting to find Oberyn Martell. Dozens of whores walked past me, glaring at me as they walked past. Some of them whispering to another, "That's Ser Loras! The Queen Regent is betrothed to him!"  
I heard moaning from a whore behind a curtain. Not so private, is it? I stepped inside, moving the curtain as I stepped inside, finding the man who I expected to see laid down on a comfy sofa – Oberyn Martell. Ellaria Sand was laid beside him, stroking a whore's head.  
"Sorry, Ser Loras." Ellaria said as she stood, "I stopped the noise myself."  
"Yes, my wife is sorry for the racket we made—We both are." Oberyn explained, smirking at me slightly.  
The whore stood, Oberyn threw her a bag of money before she rushed out from the room. Ellaria stood, looking at me, "Would you like some Red Wine, Ser Loras?"  
"No, thank you, my lady." I looked down at Oberyn, "Can we speak in private, please?"  
"No need." Oberyn shook his head, "Ellaria here already knows our little—Secret."  
"The whole of Westeros could have heard the noises you made, Ser Loras." Ellaria said, pouring some Red Wine into a goblet. "I may need a go with you at some point. Although, I may need my husband here to warm you up."  
"Enough of that, Ellaria." Oberyn said, laughing slightly as he shook his head, "You'd best be off."  
Ellaria nodded at the both of us before leaving.  
"I need you to do something for me, Oberyn." I said.  
Oberyn stood, nodding at me, "I presume that you're not here for some action in the cock-department?"  
"No. I'm not." I replied, giving him a look. "I want you to find a Kingsguard for me, Prince Oberyn."  
"Who may this Kingsguard be, Ser Loras?" He asked.  
"**Thomos Staedmon.**"


	5. Chapter 5 - Darreth Staedmon II

**DARRETH STAEDMON II**

Am I dead? Am I gone? Is this—Hell? No. No, I'm not dead. I'm not dead. It's just darkness, that's all I can see. I opened my mouth, trying to shout the word "Elrie" – my sister's name – but nothing came out. No words. "Blackwood!" The same happened. "Tyde!" Again. It was as though where I was—Wherever that may be, I was on mute. I had a curse given to me from the Gods. Was it something that I had done? Well, obviously, otherwise I would not have been sent to The Wall in the first place. What—How could I be so stupid? How could I have fled from the Night's Watch? What if I was dead? What if I fled back to Depwood Motte, back where I should be with my Uncle? But I wasn't dead. I wasn't dead, I wouldn't have gone against my oath, the words which I swore to stand by at The Night's Watch in Castle Black, I'm honourable. I'm an honourable man, or so I thought.

My eyes finally opened, only everything was blurry. All I could see was white. Crystal white. The same crystal white which Elrie's eyes were before she got dragged down into the ground beneath her. I could just slightly move my head, but not much. My view did not change at all, no matter which direction I looked, or tried to look. Nothing changed.  
"I saved you." A voice said, footsteps approached me. The person was Elrie, she looked paler than before; her eyes more crystal white than before, so much that they LOOKED crystal. They were crystal.  
"Elrie, what—What's happened to you?"  
"I'm not Elrie. Not anymore. I'm a Wight, and soon—You will be aswell."  
Footsteps approached where I was laid, only these footsteps were much louder than Elrie's footsteps. Elrie looked up at the figure which had just approached us. Her tongue changed, she spoke a language which I'd never heard of before. In fact, words did not come out of her mouth; only what seemed to be mumbling sounds.

Elrie's hand was in front of my face, in which I immediately grabbed hold of it tightly; pushing myself up to my feet, hugging her tight and close to me. I let out a cry, bursting into tears.  
"I'm sorry, Elrie. I'm so sorry I let them take you!" I cried. "I'm so sorry."  
"I told you before—I'm not Elrie."  
I stopped hugging her, shaking my head at her. I looked behind me, seeing one of The Others stood behind me, a White Walker. I looked around the area, seeing nothing but crystal. There was no ceiling, just—Whiteness. Crystal white again. It was the same around us, miles and miles. Just—Crystal white. I looked at Elrie again, putting my hands on her face. "Listen to me, yeah? You ARE Elrie. You are my sister."  
Elrie shook her head, in which I responded into slapping her; she did not respond to the slap. I slapped her again, hoping that she would respond to it. The White Walker grabbed hold of me, throwing me across the Crystal White surroundings. I laid on the floor motionless, as though I'd have given up. The White Walker approached me, looking down at me. I closed my eyes, seeing nothing but darkness once again.

"Darreth?"  
I felt my body being shook. "DARRETH?!"  
I opened my eyes, seeing Elrie kneeled over me in a Forest. I pulled myself up, sitting up. I was relieved to see Elrie back to her normal self,  
wrapping my arms around her. "What are you doing?" She asked and I quickly pulled myself off from her. I looked at her, noticing that her eyes were no longer crystal-white.  
"You—You were with them; The Others." I told her.  
"No, I wasn't, Darreth." Elrie replied, raising her eyebrow at me.  
"What are you doing out here, Elrie; out at The Wall?" I asked her as I rose to my feet, looking down at her.  
"I wanted to see you." She explained, "Uncle Jorrel has changed, Darreth; he's turned—More aggressive recently, more violent."  
I stared at her with a puzzled look on my face. I turned, looking around for the blood-puddle in the spot where Tyde and Blackwood were killed. Somehow I remembered the spot. The blood was no longer there, just footprints in the snow.  
"Were two men here with me, Elrie? Their names, they were 'Tyde' and 'Blackwood'." I asked her, she stood still. No response. "ELRIE, WERE THEY HERE OR WEREN'T THEY?!"  
"ENOUGH, BOY!" A voice yelled from behind me.

I found myself in a cottage of some sort, Elrie still standing in front of me; her face going as pale as snow as I saw my Uncle Jorrel walk through the door. He stormed over to me, grabbing hold of my arm.  
"What are you doing to your sister, Darreth?" He asked me.  
"I'm asking her why she's here; at The Wall!" I explained.  
Something was not right. Something was—Different. I noticed that I was wearing my leather jacket, the one from Deepwood Motte. I was no longer wearing my cloak, the one I wore for The Night's Watch, defending The Wall and Castle Black with my fellow 'brothers'.  
"What in the Seven Hells in wrong with your head, boy?" He stared at me, scoffing, "Have you drank too much rum, boy?"  
I remained silent. Not because I did not know what my reply was, but because I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of my Uncle Jorrel. He grabbed hold of Elrie's hand, leading her over to the door as he swung it open.  
"I'll have the Grand Maester come and check you out, Darreth." He told me before he led Elrie out of the door, Elrie glaring at me over her shoulder. I blinked my eyes.

I found myself in the middle of a snow-land, looking around; I could just see The Wall in the distance. I was wearing my cloak again from Castle Black and I heard footsteps approach me from behind.  
"Darreth." The voice said, it was Elrie's voice. I turned to Elrie, who was stood in front of me, she was wearing a white dress which was made out of crystal it seemed. "Are you ready for training?" She asked me.  
I found that I was holding a crystal-sword, and that I was wearing crystal-white armour, something which man would have never seen before. I looked up at Elrie again.  
"Training?" I asked her, feeling tears emerge in my eyes, "Training for WHAT?!"  
I blinked again.

"What do you mean 'Training for what', boy?" A deep voice said in front of me, "Training for CASTLE BLACK!"  
I opened my eyes, finding myself back in Castle Black, I saw a fellow crow – Styve Grell – stood in front of me, wielding a sword in his hand. I looked amongst the crowd of men watching the scene, I was wearing my black cloak once again. As I looked amongst the crowd, analysing the faces; I noticed that Tyde and Blackwood were stood amongst them, sniggering just like the rest of them.  
"Why?" Grell began, "What did you think you were training for?!"  
The men laughed as Grell bellowed loudly, his laughter echoing through the whole of Westeros. I clenched the sword in my hand, looking at Grell, opening my mouth as I told,  
"**The Others.**"


	6. Chapter 6 - Ranaenyra Galtheos II

**RANAENYRA DALTHEOS II**

I entered the Throne Room of The Great Pyramid of Meereen. Three of The Unsullied – Mud Fly amongst them – followed me to Daenerys' presence, Mud Fly and another The Unsullied holding a silk-cover that hid my brother's bones underneath – Daeraron Daltheos. Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jorah Mormont stood either side of Daenerys, whom was sat on the Throne. Grey Worm was stood nearby Missandei, one of Daenerys' closest friends and translator of whom were not common tongue. I stopped by the steps, looking up at Daenerys. She gave me a warm smile, knowing who I was.

"I know who you are." She explained, "You're Ranaenyra Daltheos. What can I do for you?"  
I opened my mouth before closing it again, looking down at the ground before I looked up at her again.  
"The Unsullied which stand behind me carry some bones, your Grace." I explained, feeling a slight stutter in my words.  
"'Bones'?" Daenerys repeated, "Bones of whom, may I ask?"  
"Bones of my—" I began to stutter, tears falling down my cheeks from my eyes again. "Bones of my brother."  
The Unsullied placed the bones on the floor, taking the cover off from it; revealing Daeraron's bones, all of them scattering on the floor slightly, not too far away from each other. Daenerys knew what had happened, what caused my brother's flesh to burn into ash, his skin to melt.  
"What creature did this to your brother, Ranaenyra?" She asked, already knowing the answer.  
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?!" I shouted, my hair getting in the way of my face; I flicked it off from my face as tears streamed down my cheeks. "YOUR BLACK DRAGON!"  
"Enough, my Lady. " Barristan said, stepping forward towards me as he held his hand out, "I'll have no aggression in—"  
"Its okay, Ser Barristan." Daenerys said, "Her brother has just been burned by MY Dragon. She had every right to be angry."  
I saw tears appear in Daenerys' eyes, she wanted to deny it; deny that any of her Dragons had brought harm to civilian, but she couldn't do so.  
"I want your Dragons punished for this, your Grace." I explained, "Have them shot down, back to being a myth which they used to—"  
"Did you anger the Dragon, by any chance?" She asked me, Daenerys. I remained silent, not coming to a conclusion on what my response to her should be. Daenerys stood, walking down the steps towards me. She put her hand on my shoulder. I felt my Heart drop, despite it beating faster than it ever has done. I realised what had angered Drogon, what had provoked him into burning the Farm. Into burning Daeraron.

"I—" I opened my mouth, beginning to breathe heavily; almost hyperventilating. "I—" Did I tell her the truth? I know that I should do, but—But isn't it best if you keep some secrets? That's what Daeraron always told me, that although it's told that you SHOULD tell the truth, that sometimes you have to lie; keep the truth uncovered.  
"You can tell me, Ranaenya." Daenerys told me.  
"Your Grace, may I—May I speak to you in private?" I requested, only keeping my eyes on Daenerys. "Alone with Mud Fly, please?" I continued.  
Daenerys turned to her advisors stood behind her by the Throne and walked up the steps to them, discussing the situation. I slowly turned to Mud Fly, who was looking at me, his face with no emotion at all.  
"Thank you for assisting Lady Ranaenya into bringing her brother's bones in here, Unsullied." Daenerys began, turning to us, "You may leave." With this, the two Unsullied walked out from the Great Pyramid and Daenerys looked down at me and Mud Fly, "Come with me."

Daenerys led me (and Mud Fly) into a luxurious room behind the Throne area of The Great Pyramid, she stood just by the entrance of the balcony which looked over the whole of Meereen.  
"What angered him?" She repeated, looking at me.  
"Somebody rode him, your Grace." I began, "Somebody rode Drogon's back."  
"Who? Was it Daeraron?" Daenerys asked me, looking at Mud Fly; expecting him to answer.  
"He does not speak the common-tongue, your Grace." I lied, reassuring that my plan was not going to be disrupted by an Unsullied.  
"I'm sure that I can understand what he—"  
"MUD FLY RODE DROGON'S BACK!" I began, tears began to roll down my cheeks to cover up my guilt, although—I felt no guilt. "He rode his back, he angered him; saw him as a Horse or something!" I turned to Mud Fly, staring at him madly as tears streamed down my cheeks, "Didn't you?" I whispered. "DIDN'T YOU?!"  
Mud Fly remained still, not reacting nor responding to the scene. Daenerys looked down at the floor, clenching her fists together as Daario Naharis walked inside. Daenerys nodded at him in which Daario grabbed hold of Mud Fly's arm, leading him back out to the Throne Room.

What was happening? I needed answers.  
"Where are you taking him, your Grace?" Daenerys turned away from me, watching as her Three mystical creatures flew above the skies of Meereen. "Your Grace, I—"  
"He's being thrown into Slaver's Bay." Daenerys began, turning to me again, "He'll be executed at sunrise."  
"But—But he—He rode a Dragon, your Grace!" I explained, "That's all he did, he—"  
"He had your brother BURNED to his bones, Ranaenya." She told me, her eyes full of rage. "Don't you want him punished?"  
"No—I mean—Yes. YES, I want him punished, but not—NOT LIKE THIS!" I explained, trying to reason with Daenerys, attempting to persuade her to change her mind on her actions.  
"You see, I'm not stupid, Ranaenya; I hope you can see that." Daenerys told me, stepping close to me. "I know that Mud Fly did not ride Drogon. I know that Mud Fly would never even consider doing such a thing. And I also know that he speaks the common tongue."  
"Your Grace, I—"  
"I'm not finished." Daenerys began, she turned away from me again, stepping towards the open-window; although, there wasn't any glass. "I want you to show me how much honour you have, Ranaenya. I want you to show Mud Fly how much you respect him for helping me, for serving me, for serving you and everybody else. At sunrise tomorrow, before Mud Fly is executed; beheaded. I want you to CONFESS. I want you to CONFESS into angering Drogon."  
I did not respond. I looked down at my feet, realising the mistake I had made. I felt sick come up at the back of my throat, the burning-feeling of it. I looked up, seeing that Daenerys was stood in front of me now.  
"Let me tell you something, Ranaenya." Daenerys began, she had tears in her eyes, "**When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die.**"


	7. Chapter 7 - Dalene Harner I

**DALENE HARNER**

The newest addition to Mole's Town's newborn was crying throughout the night, all the way up to now. I kept my cool as I washed clothes for the men of the small Village amongst other women of the Village – my short-tempted sister Nonya amongst them. Nonya moved over to me as she scrubbed a torn-shirt, it looked like rags.  
"I wish that Wildling bitch would shut that baby the fuck up." Nonya complained.  
I stared at her, "I was a Wildling once too, Nonya." I argued, "Besides, my children were like this when they were born."  
"You don't even fucking know who your children are, Dalene!" Nonya argued, "You left them at fucking Kings Landing with your bastard of a husband!"  
I rolled my eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you? I've never had a husband, I don't believe in married." I picked up the basket of rags which I had washed, heading over to the door. Nonya followed me, standing in front of me.  
"Get that baby to shut the fuck up, yeah?" Nonya commanded, "Otherwise I'll grab it by the neck, twist it and ram it up its Mother's throat."  
The baby's cries continued and I put the basket back down where I picked it up from, staring at Nonya madly, "I just thought that I'd let you know, I only had two children." I began, "A daughter and son."  
I glared at her in anger as I made my way up the stairs where the crying was coming from.

The Wildling who carried a baby was hanging up some laundry from downstairs, her baby boy crying in a small cot made up out of wood. I stood behind her for a while, not concentrating on her, but on the baby in the cot.  
"What do you want?" The Wildling asked me, folding up some rags ready to hang them up.  
I stared at her, snapping out of some sort of trance, "The ladies downstairs; they're complaining about your baby crying."  
"I can't stop it, can't I?" The Wildling argued, "I can barely look after myself, let alone him!"  
"If you don't stop him from crying, then chances are that he will get stabbed in the middle of the night." I told her, this was not a threat either; this was me speaking the truth, and she knew full well that it was. "What's your name?" I asked her.  
"Why does it matter to you?" She snapped, staring at me.  
"No reason." I replied, looking down at the baby as it cried loudly, before looking at his Mother again. "I just want you to know that whatever happens, I won't let anybody hurt your child, alright?"  
She opened her mouth, about to answer, until footsteps came heaving up the stairs.

Torund was stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the Wildling in rage; as though he wanted to murder her, not to mention the child.  
"What's this I see, a child?" He grunted.  
The Wildling was about to speak. "A large man dropped her and the child off earlier; said that we needed to shelter her, keep her safe."  
"And why's that?" Torund asked, "So that she doesn't get raped at Craster's Keep? Girl, I'm afraid that's unlikely. How about a rape and then a murder of your baby?"  
"That won't happen." I said, staring at Torund madly.  
"What's your name, Wildling?" He asked me.  
"My name is Dalene Harner." I told him.  
He seemed amazed, staring at me as though I was inhuman. "Harner, eh?" He asked. "Wildling's like you don't often have surnames."  
"I'm not exactly a 'Wildling', Ser Tor—"  
He grabbed my hair, stopping me from finishing my sentence. The Wildling rushed over to her Son, cradling him in her arms; holding him close to her chest as Torund forced me down to the floor, his mouth at my ear.  
"What did you say, bitch? That you're not a Wildling?" He asked, his voice growing deeper.  
"I'm sorry, Ser Torund. I—I am a Wildling." I said in a stuttered tone, almost a whisper.  
"And you're right, Dalene." He began, "This Wildling bitch here, the one with the boy; she isn't in for a good rape." I saw him look up at the Wildling as he neared his mouth to my ear, "You are."

I laid on the floor. My heart was beating fast, I couldn't stop it. My hair full of grease, my forehead full of sweat. Footsteps stomped down the stairs, I knew that it was him. I heard the baby's cries fading, footsteps approaching me. I then heard footsteps rushing down the stairs. I closed my eyes, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. I paused for a moment, as though time had frozen. All I could think about were my two children. What were their names? I don't even remember. I don't remember my own children's names. I don't remember where they were taken, what their Father's name was, I just—All I could remember was the man's face, the way he stared at me like no other man had done before. I heard the woman's voices from downstairs, laughter and smashing of glass. I also heard men outside, laughing as I heard a woman outside panting and gasping for breath. Did she experience what I had just done? I wondered. What if my daughter had been raped? My girl. My baby girl. My little girl. I felt another tear roll down my cheek as pain filled my whole body. It hurt. Everything hurt. Not one part of my body was not numb. I looked down at my body, seeing cuts and bruises covering my arms and legs from the struggle of the attack. Were things ever going to be the same again? Footsteps approached me, rushing up the stairs.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you." The Wildling said as she aided my cuts with a cloth from the bucket of cold water which she had collected from the well outside in the Village.  
"It's okay." I told her, "I didn't expect you to stand in anyway."  
"Thank you," she began, "You're kind to me."  
I noticed that the baby's crying had stopped, in which I responded to the Wildling with a smile.  
"I have no reason to show any cruelty against you." I commented, smiling at her.  
The Wildling continued to aid my wounds before said, "Gilly."  
I stared at her puzzled, "Pardon?"  
"My name." She explained, "**My name is Gilly.**"


	8. Chapter 8 - Ariyana Caswell II

**ARIYANA CASWELL II**

I ran down through the Forest past the trees, I hid behind a large Oak Tree; gasping for breath as I panted, my hand on my chest as suddenly I stopped myself from wheezing. I looked around, nothing around me apart from the trees of the Forest; similar to the ones which Ryden and I used to play hide-and-seek in when we were kids with other children, only these trees were much thicker and more useable to craft shields and swords. The Dreadford was no longer in site I noticed, I must have ran miles away from it. I heard barking from the Hounds miles away, but they began to draw closer, and so did the Bastard and his whore's

"ARIYANA!" The Bastard – Ramsay – called out for me.  
"Ariyana, this isn't hide-and-seek, you know?!" Myranda laughed, as I heard the dogs barking come nearer. They must have translated what she was saying in their own language, considering she was a dog herself.  
I looked around for safety, noticing a small cave in the middle of nowhere – in the Forest – what was it Ryden said?  
_"A man will meet you in a cave, out in the Forests." _I remembered, those were his words – maybe not his exact words, but they were close enough.  
I jumped up to my feet, running towards the cave; I turned, catching a glimpse of Ramsay, Myranda and the Hounds. Myranda drew her bow at me with the arrow loaded, aiming at me.  
"THERE SHE IS!" Ramsay called, looking delighted as I turned again; the cave had disappeared, gone as though as it was a myth like the Children of the Forests and The White Walkers, instead I was running towards a tree; I found myself running into it, unable to stop myself from running. I was about to run when suddenly a fire-arrow hit the tree, I let out a scream as it skinned my cheek; falling onto my knees, groaning in pain as I tried to calm the burning down.  
"Shit!" Myranda shouted, "I missed her chest!"  
I turned, seeing the Dogs rush towards me in which I found myself running; back on my feet again, forcing myself to run as fast as I could through the Forests. When was this going to end?

I was a fair distance away from the Bastard, his whore and the hounds again; I heard the barking draw near though. I looked up at the large Tree I was stood nearby, grasping hold of the trunk of it – I remembered Ryden teaching me how to climb trees not long ago in training – and pulling myself up to the top of it, I sat on the thick-branch; hiding in the shadows underneath the leaves as I saw the bastard, the whore and the hounds approach the Tree. The dogs rushed past the tree in which I responded, sighing with relief as they faded into the bushes.  
"She runs quickly." Myranda said, looking around the Forest.  
"So she does." The Bastard agreed, looking up at the top of the trees, his eyes wavering around me, "So she does." He repeated. His eyes were beaming at me. I closed my eyes, trying to stop myself from breathing so heavily, for a moment everything froze. For a small moment it felt as though the whole world had frozen, I felt a tear slowly roll down my cheek before I re-opened my eyes and Ramsay and his whore were following the Hounds through the Forest. I sighed with relief, putting my hand on my chest over my heart; feeling it beat a hundred times a second, I felt the pressure of the branch suddenly begin to snap before I found myself on the floor of the Forest.

"GET HER, BOYS!" The Bastard commanded his Hounds as I ran through the Forest, my legs covered in blood from the impact of the fall from the Tree not so long away from me. I turned around, seeing a fire-arrow dart itself towards me, I jumped to one side and the arrow dodged me, hitting a tree which I was stood in front of.  
"Fuck you." I heard Myranda say underneath her breath as she drew another arrow; two this time, Ramsay stood not so far away from her and the Hounds continued to charge towards me. I pulled myself back up to my feet, I could not stop for a second, not for a minute; I had to escape, find this man, this cave for Ryden. I continued to run away, fleeing from the Bastard before I looked up; seeing a cave in front of me, I couldn't lose it; not again. Even if it was a hallucination, a myth; I had to get there for Ryden. I sprinted towards it, hearing the Hounds bark and Myranda walking up from behind me, she drew her arrows back in her bow; aiming at my head. The arrows darted into my back and I let out a scream, feeling the burn from the fire of the arrow, I reached out for the cave, trying to pull it towards me, but I fell down a ravine; falling deep to the pit of it.

Was I alive? Was I dead? I felt myself moving. I felt myself walking. No, not walking. I was not moving either. I felt my body move, but nothing else. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing a masked man who shared comparisons to an assassin kneeled over me, I let out a scream; punching him across the face as I stood, picking up a rock from nearby as he stood up straight; not hurt from the punch.  
"Who are you?" I asked, demanding an answer.  
"It doesn't matter who I am." The man explained as he neared towards me, grabbing hold of the rock, taking it away from me as I loosened my grip, "It only matters where you are now."  
I looked around me, I was in a cave. The cave. THE cave.  
"What do you want from me?" I asked him.  
"I want you to show me how loyal you are to your brother" He explained, "Ryden Caswell."  
I felt a lump at the back of my throat as my eyes began to fill with tears, I swallowed the lump.  
"Let me see your face." I demanded, "Let me see your face."  
The man grabbed hold of his mask, pulling it off as he revealed himself; he was a Highborn, it seemed. He was handsome, VERY handsome. The sort of gentleman you'd only see in Kings Landing or Dorne. I felt him grab hold of my waists as he began to remove my gown, pressing me against the wall as he kissed me. He revealed my breasts, they were only small and he grabbed hold of one of them, kissing them softly before he looked at me again.  
"Are you proud of your body?" He asked me. I stared at him, nodding as I was in shock from the tenderness of his lips. "Who do you want to look like?" He asked me.  
I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know." I explained, "Lyanna of House Stark."  
"I can make you her." He explained. His eyes were full of mystery. I noticed his face was ice-cold, going from a tanned skin colour to what appeared to be pale-white, just like mine. His eyes turned from ocean-coloured blue to green, just like mine.  
"No." I slowly stepped away from the man, shaking my head. "No you can't be him. You can't—I saw him die. I SAW HIM DIE!" I said, feeling tears rolls down my cheeks.  
"It's okay, Ariyana." He said, holding his hand out to me.  
"No—NO! NO STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I shoved him away from me.  
The man stood in front of me was not any man, he was **my brother, Ryden**.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Exiled I

**THE EXILED**

I woke up, finding myself on a boat which was being sailed by a hooded-gentleman; the hood he was wearing was black, almost camouflaging into the strange smoke. No, this was not smoke, it was thick-black shadows. I looked down at my hand, seeing it covered in cuts and bruises which faded as the shadows became thicker. I looked at the hooded man, opening my mouth; trying to speak out, ask him all the questions which I could. No words came out. Not even a gasp for breath. Nothing. I looked around, seeing the silhouettes of people staring out of their windows down at me on the boat. I noticed something else about myself, I wore no clothing; not even rags. My cock was hanging out, but I was not tied. I put my hand into the water as the small wooden-boat sailed along it.

I heard tapping from the front of the boat, it was the Hooded man and I looked at him.  
"No point in getting into that water, boy." He began, "You will only find yourself back on this boat again."  
'Where am I?' I wanted to ask him, only no words could find themselves come off my tongue. I took my hand out from the water. I looked forward, seeing that the building which we were approaching had a rounded-roof, an oval one. The light shining from it was brighter than the other buildings, only this one was different; I felt a burning-sensation from it. We stopped at the dock of the building and the Hooded man turned to me.  
"Off you go." He said, turning around again.  
I pulled myself up onto the dock, my cock still hanging out inbetween my legs, I turned around; noticing that the Hooded man and the boat were now gone. I made my way into the building, closing the large door behind me.

I put my palm on the walls of the building, it felt greasy. I pressed my hand against it more.  
"What are you doing, Exiled?" A voice said behind me, in which I responded, turning to a man stood in front of me; his face was covered by a mask, one made out of black-stone it seemed. He walked over to me, looking at the wall, "Black stone. It's a wonderful type of material, don't you think? Please. Follow me."  
The man led me into a room where a group of people were sat down at a large-table, I began to make my way towards the group of people – there were four of them.  
"No." A woman said, she was wearing a long, silver dress which matched her long silver hair, her silver-painted lips. Her silver hair, her eyes. She was majestic, I stood there in amazement as I stared at her profound beauty. I tried my hardest to cover my cock, she wore a not-so revealing, but revealing dress I noticed and she scoffed, "He's excited for mine and his session."  
"Take a seat next to me, Exiled." A man said who was wearing a mask, his identity covered by one thing; it was made out of black stone, just like the building, similar to the other man in the room; only this one was wearing silver, just like the woman who halted me from sitting down near her. I sat down next to the man wearing nothing but red. I looked up, seeing a woman, her face also covered with black stone; she was wearing a crystal-blue, almost blending into the silver dress which the Silver woman was dressed in. I wanted to say something, ask a question on the masks.  
"Don't give him the right to speak yet, Ser Lazrazapho." The Lady in Silver began, "He wants to ask us about our masks. Only he'll leave this building unanswered."  
The man wearing Silver, he was Ser Lazrazapho opened his mouth, "You're here because you fled Dragonstone from King Stannis Baratheon. Lady Melisandre exiled you here. Why did you flee?"  
Lazrazapho put his hand up, as though he was about to click his fingers, in which he did.

I opened my mouth, feeling something trying to crawl out from the back of my throat, pulling on my tongue. I gagged, feeling the vomit go through my airways. The Silver Woman stood, rushing over to me as she grabbed hold of my naked body.  
"He needs my help to get out." She said, holding my body in her arms as I felt the claw try to escape from my body.  
What is it? What's inside of me?  
The Woman took me into a room, it was also made up of black-stone walls, the bed was broken, almost absorbing into the ground. The Woman laid me down on the bed as I choked, trying to speak; a mumble came out, but even I wasn't sure what I said exactly.  
"My name is Ineraleah, Exiled." She said as she took a piece of metal out from a draw, putting it over some fire which was made up of crystals; you could just see the crystal in the flames. "I want to know you, everything about you."  
She approached my bed, looking down at me; the creature inside of me struggled to get out of me, which is what I wanted it to do. I began to cry, feeling a tear-drop roll down my cheek. The Woman in Silver wiped my tear with her finger, shaking her head at me.  
"Don't cry, Exiled. Don't be scared." She said, holding the crystal-flamed metal-piece over me, "This will only sting a little."  
The Woman in Silver put the burning-metal into my mouth, in which the creature inside of me reacted to; letting out a scream which I had never heard before, it was not a sound you would hear from Westeros, that's for sure. The creature flew or something, throwing me across the room as it continued to climb out of me. I fell to the floor.

I couldn't see anything. The only thing I could see was darkness. Darkness from getting knocked out by the creature inside of me. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing a creature made up of the Shadow outside looking at me; it's Silver eyes looking down at me. I jumped to my feet, backing away from it in horror; staring at it with tears in my eyes, stuttering as I struggled to get the words out from my mouth.  
"What—What—What is—" I stuttered, unable to finish my question.  
The Woman in Silver stood beside the creature, looking at me before she looked at the creature stood next to her.  
"Don't worry, sweet child. Your Father is scared, my Prince." She said, stroking it softly; it made a slight purring sound, only smoke came out from its smoke, it's eyes sparkled.  
"Father?" I asked.  
The Woman in Silver looked at me, "This is your Prince, your Grace."  
"What do you mean? I—I don't have a Son!" I argued, "And I'm not ROYALTY either!"  
"You're very naïve, aren't you?" She asked me, "Look at your bed, Exiled."  
I turned to where the bed was, it was completely remade; silver sheets, I turned around again, seeing a mirror in front of me; I was wearing Silver armour, a Silver crown which had a shadow substance going around it.  
She held her hand out to me, The Silver Woman, "This way, your Grace."  
I took her hand and she led me out of a door which opened up to a balcony going over the clouds of the strange shadowed-city, unlike the surface of the place, this was much brighter and Ineraleah looked at me.  
**"Welcome to the City of Asshai."**


	10. Chapter 10 - Ranaenyra Galtheos III

**RANAENYRA GALTHEOS III**

I tied my silver hair back, just as Daeraron taught me to.  
"This is how Mother used to tie her hair back." He'd told me when we were alone, abandoned on an island far away from the Great city of Meereen.  
I didn't know much about my Mother, or my Father for that matter. It was just me and him, me and my brother, my soulmate, my saviour. Daeraron saved me from Drogon, the biggest dragon of three mothered by Daenerys Stormborn. He was in my debt. He was forever in my debt. And so was the Unsullied, Mud Fly – I was in his debt, too.  
"Lady Ranaenyra," A voice said behind me, I turned, seeing that it was one of the wealthiest men in Meereen, the man which came to my aid when my 'Father' died, "The execution for the Unsullied is occurring now."  
"OK, Ser Raman." I said, finishing my hair, "I'm ready."  
"Would you like me to escort you to the city?" He asked me.  
"I'm fine, thank you." I said, giving him a warm but nervous smile.  
"What's the matter, my Lady?" He asked me, his eyes looking as soft as ever, "Is something bothering you?" Before I could answer, he continued, "What a pathetic question! Of course, your brother Ser Daeraron is dead."  
"It's not just the grief that's hurting me, Ser Raman." I told him, I felt tears filling in my eyes, "It's the guilt."

The whole city of Meereen gathered outside The Great Pyramid where Daenerys often was. Outside on a stage made up out of sandstone stood Daenerys herself, Ser Barristan, Missandei, Ser Jorah and an Unsullied, Greyworm. Ser Raman led me up the steps to the stage, he placed me nearby Daenerys before walking back down onto flat-land into the crowd of people preparing for themselves on what would be the 'execution'.  
"You have to do what's right." Daenerys told me as I stood beside, "You have to do this to save an Unsullied life, his innocence."  
"But I—" I began, not thinking about what I was about to tell Daenerys, "You wouldn't have him executed, surely?"  
"No." She told me, "Not Mud Fly."  
Mud Fly stepped up to the sandstone-stage in front of the people; he was turned away from us, standing up tall as Ser Jorah sat me down nearby him, aswell as Missandei and Ser Barristan. Greyworm stayed stood, giving me a glare as I took my seat. He knew. He knew that I'd lied. I could tell just by looking at him, the way he looked at me. He hated me. Maybe not hated me, but if I didn't confess to my sins in front of these people for Mud Fly's life, for his innocence, then he would do.  
"Do you confess to what you did, for provoking Drogon?" Daenerys asked Mud Fly.  
Mud Fly nodded, looking down at his feet, closing his eyes. He didn't respond to her and Ser Barristan stood, he was wielding a sword and I stood, Ser Jorah sat me back down.  
"What are you doing?" Jorah asked me.  
"This isn't—" I began to stutter, before finding my confidence in my words again, "This isn't right!"  
I felt tears stream down my cheeks. Ser Barristan raised his sword above Mud Fly as Mud Fly fell down to his knees. Daenerys kept her eyes focussed on Mud Fly, not paying attention the crowd chanting abuse at Mud Fly in their own tongue. Daenerys looked at Ser Barristan, giving him a nod.

"STOP!" I found myself back on my feet, Ser Barristan lowed his sword.  
"What is it, Lady Ranaenyra?" Daenerys asked me as she turned to me.  
I felt the pressure on me, the guilt grow larger. I had to tell people the truth, not just for me, not just for Mud Fly, but for Daeraron.  
"It wasn't Mud Fly who provoked Drogon." I began, my eyes filling with tears again of nerves. "It was me."  
The crowd talked amongst each other, some at me; only I couldn't understand them. Greyworm walked over to Mud Fly, pulling him to his feet. As Greyworm led Mud Fly down the sandstone steps he gave me a glare of hatred, leading him back into the Great Pyramid. I felt a giant overshadow the city, a shadow overlooking the people. The people of Meereen continued to throw abuse at me, I could just begin to understand what they were saying now.  
"Silence." Daenerys said coldly. The insults continued and she turned, "SILENCE!"  
The crowd quietened down, focussing on Daenerys and her only. Daenerys turned to me.  
"Lady Daenerys, I—"  
"Inside the Great Pyramid." Daenerys demanded, "NOW!"  
I made my way into the Great Pyramid, with nothing but nerves filling my body, thoughts spinning around in my head.

I was sat down in Daenerys' chamber. Ser Barristan walked in, looking down at me.  
"Daenerys asked me to keep an eye on you." He told me, walking over to me as he closed the door. "She won't be long now."  
I stayed silent, keeping my eyes down at the floor. I felt full of shame, guilt.  
"He hates me, doesn't he?" I asked myself, speaking aloud.  
"Who? Mud Fly?" Ser Barristan questioned, "Of course he doesn't, Child. The Unsullied are forgiving, I'll have you know." I gave him a warm smile, in which he returned. "Neither does Daenerys. She's very fond of you, actually."  
"No she isn't, she hates me." I argued, "She's going to exile me from the city, I know it."  
I put my head into my hands as I began to cry, unable to stop myself. Ser Barristan took a small tissue out from his armour-pocket, handing it over to me.  
"Don't worry yourself, Lady Ranaerya." He comforted me, "Daenerys isn't the hateful type, unless you mess with her family."  
"But I—" I tried to find the words to give him, the right words, but I couldn't slide them off of my tongue. The Unsullied were Daenerys' family. Mud Fly is her family. But me, what am I to her? I'm nobody.

"Thank you, Ser Barristan." Daenerys told Barristan as he left the chamber, Daenerys closed the door behind him as she turned to him.  
"I'm proud of you." She told me.  
I stayed silent, smiling at her slightly, although it wasn't genuine. I wanted to be punished. I had to get rid of these feelings and emotions which had filled me just the day before. I wanted to be executed, just as Mud Fly was going to—Although, he was never going to be executed.  
I owed her an apology, I owed Mud Fly an apology, "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be sorry, Ranaenyra." She told me, "You did what you thought would keep you out of trouble. Children like you, they make mistakes. But they also learn from their mistakes, too."  
Daenerys sat down opposite me, grabbing hold of my hands as I felt a tear-drop roll down my cheek. All I could think about was Daeraron, what he would say if he were here. All I could think about was Mud Fly, what he thought of me. And then I thought of—  
"Ranaenyra—" Daenerys began. I stared at her, waiting for her to continue, only it was a while until she did, giving me the shock of my life as she revealed what she knew about me and Daeraron. **"I need to tell you something."**


	11. Chapter 11 - Exiled II - Lord of Asshai

**THE LORD OF ASSHAI**

I lay here, still mind-blown as to what had just happened to me. How could I go from serving Stannis Baratheon to being a Lord of the mysterious city of Asshai. I turned, seeing The Silver Woman laid down next to me, she was undressed, as was I. She shared some similarities to Lady Melisandre, the shadowbinder of Stannis. Perhaps they were relatives? I stood, walking over to the table which had a goblet of unfinished wine in it, I picked it up; sipping it. I heard footsteps from the bed and eventually Ineraleah approached me, standing at my side.  
"Shall we feed our animal?" She asked me.  
"_'Animal'_?" I asked, "You mean that shadow thing?"  
"That's your Son, your Grace." She reminded me, "He came out of you, after all. He's a Prince, just as you were."  
"I've never been a Prince." I told her, giving her a stern look.  
"You keep telling yourself that." She told me, as though she had more to say to me. "Lady Melisandre wants you to visit Dragonstone at some point."  
"Tell the red bitch that she can burn in her own flames." I told her.  
"I think she has plans for you, your Grace." She told me, "In fact, I know that she does."  
"Alright," I began, "When should we go?"  
"Whenever you please."

On the beach of Dragonstone there was a pyre of burning bodies, the Red Woman – Melisandre – stood in the centre of the several burning bodies, looking as though she had just been pleasured by something; R'hllor, perhaps. Ineraleah grabbed hold of my arm, holding me back.  
"Not now, Your Grace." She told me, "She doesn't like being distracted when sacrificing people to the Lord of Light."  
"The Lord of Light?" I spat, "The Lord of Light is bullshit."  
"You tell her that."

"Why did you send me to that city?" I asked Melisandre as she stood before me, Ineraleah was no longer present.  
"I don't take sacrifices for the Lord of Light so kindly, Exiled." She told me, "You're in luck that King Stannis was so generous to have you sent to my city of Asshai."  
"Why is it so dark there, at Asshai?" I asked her.  
"That's for you to figure out yourself." She told me, staring at a flaming torch before looking at me again. "Has Lady Ineraleah showed you your future yet, Exiled?"  
I stared at her puzzled and she led me over to a nearby bed, sitting me down on the end of it. She picked up a blade, looking down at it, turning to me.  
"Are you a virgin?" She asked me, undoing her robe; revealing her unbelievable body, one which I couldn't take my eyes off.  
"I don't think so, no." I told her, unknown to the actual answer, just like my name.  
"Well—Either way. I'm going to need your blood." She told me, taking out a leach out from her robe pocket, placing it on my face; it began to suck my blood.  
Lady Melisandre climbed on top of me, kissing my neck. Nothing was happening, for me anyway. She tried to undress me, still nothing happened, but the leach continued to suck my blood as though it was a mythical creature; a vampire. I could tell that the Red Woman was unimpressed as she climbed off from me, snatching the leach off from my face.

I watched as the leach burned in the flames as Lady Melisandre forced me to focus into the flames, try to see my future.  
"Unbelievable." She said to herself, before looking at me, "The Lord of Light isn't showing me your future, of what's to come."  
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked her.  
"You're just like me, Exiled." She told me.  
I was puzzled by what she had just said, I wasn't from Asshai. I wasn't a Red Priest, and I certainly didn't possess the power of using magic.  
"You're a prisoner of you own choices." She told me, "Just like I was when I was just a girl."  
Ineraleah walked into the chambers of Lady Melisandre, standing by the door, she was looking at me before turning to Melisandre.  
"I told you that there would be no luck." She told Melisandre, "I already tried him out myself."  
"Yes." Lady Melisandre agreed, giving me a look full of hatred, "But I hate being in the dark, the Lord of Light took me out of that many years ago."  
Ineraleah turned to me, "Can me and Lady Melisandre speak in private, please?" She asked in which I responded with a nod, before stepping out to sail back to Asshai with the Silver Woman.

In Asshai I was stood at my chambers, with the still-unfinished goblet of wine in my hand. Ineraleah approached me, standing behind me, rubbing my crotch.  
"Why don't we have some fun?" She suggested.  
"No. No, not now." I snapped, "I—I want to know more about her; about the Red Woman."  
"Well, what would you like to know about her exactly?" She asked me, raising an eyebrow.  
"I want to know exactly what she was like when she lived here, in Asshai." I told her, "I want to know her proper name, her full story."  
"Where do I begin?" Ineraleah asked herself, sighing before she sat down on the end of my bed, "Her name wasn't Melisandre, well—As far as I know."  
"Well, what was her name?"  
**"Her name was Melony."**


	12. Chapter 12 - Ariyana Caswell III

**ARIYANA CASWELL III**

"Who the fuck are you?"  
"What are you talking about?" The man in front of me questioned, "It's me, Ryden. Do you not recognise your own brother?"  
"You're not my brother; you're not Ryden." I snapped, shoving my way past the mysterious man, trying to find an exit of the cave.  
"What are you doing, Ariyana?" The man asked, watching as I tried to find an exit. "We have much to catch up on."  
"I'm going to kill the bastard." I told him, "I'm going to kill RAMSAY SNOW!"  
The man remained silent as I turned him, feeling my eyes fill with tears as I stared at him madly. Was he Ramsay? Was he working for the Bolton's? Why did this man save me and HOW did Ryden know about him? I had so many questions to ask. So many answers to gather, but this was only the beginning of solving this mysterious puzzle.  
"How did Ryden know that you would save me?" I asked him, "You're a stranger, nothing more."  
"That man in the Dreadfort—" The man began, "That wasn't Ryden, that wasn't your brother."  
"Then who the fuck was it?" I asked him, forcing him to spit out all he knew.  
"That was one of my companions."  
"_"Companions"_?" I asked him, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"  
"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" The man asked me, "Curiosity isn't a bad thing, but it also leads to consequences." The man turned away from me, beginning to walk away. I focussed my eyes onto a double-sided spear on the ground by the man's feet. "And soon, Ariyana Caswell—"

I quickly grabbed hold of the spear, driving it at the man who wore my brother's face, he grasped his grip onto the spear I held, making me drop it as I screamed slightly, he put his arm over my neck, slamming me against the wall. "You'll see the consequences."  
"I've killed more than one person." The man told me, "Me and my companions have murdered many, many people. Not because we want to, not because of revenge. It's because we're asked to by somebody higher than us."  
I listened, I followed the man deeper into the darkness, but I didn't take it all in. I think he knew, only he didn't do a questionnaire which Roose Bolton or his bastard would do. Finally, the man got my attention.  
"What do you want, Caswell?" He asked me, "More than anything in this world?"  
"I want vengeance." I told him, "I want vengeance for me, for my family."  
"And who do you want to suffer?"  
"I want Roose Bolton to suffer. I want his bastard, Ramsay Snow and his whore Myranda to suffer, too." I explained, "And let's not forget his little toy, Reek."  
"I understand." The man nodded at me, "But—They've done nothing to your family, none of them. This is all just a big misunderstanding on your behalf."  
"Do you have any idea what's coming out of your mouth?" I asked him.  
The man covered his face with a mask again. "This way."

The man led me into a room where three dead bodies were. No, wait. There were four bodies. They were covered up, obviously. The man stood  
beside me, looking at me.  
"Go on." He insisted, nodding his head in the direction of the bodies.  
"Whose bodies are those? Are you storing corpses?" I asked him.  
"You will see why the Boltons are the least of your problems right now." He explained.  
I knelt down by the first of the four bodies, uncovering the body of my brother, Ryden. I was right, the man in the cave wasn't him; it wasn't Ryden. I noticed something about THIS Ryden though, his face was ruined; purple. It wasn't the normal colour of a dead body, it wasn't pale, it was just—Purple. I quickly uncovered the next body, vomiting on the floor at it's side; it was my four-year-old sister. My sister; it had been so long since I last saw her, that I had forgotten her name. That's what the Dreadfort does to you, that's what the Boltons to you too; you become brainwashed. Although I couldn't remember my sisters name, I still felt anger, the need to murder again, "I'm going to kill whichever BASTARD did this."

I covered my sister's body up again, uncovering the next two bodies quickly; revealing both my Mother and Father. Was this it for me? Were all of my family dead; wiped out? My body felt weak. My airways stopped letting me breathe for air. I was next. I could feel it. This man stood behind me was planning to assassinate me. He was assigned to murder me next; it was becoming clear now. I stood up, looking at the man stood in the same room to me; his face was covered with a mask.  
"Listen, I don't know who the fuck you are," I began, "But if you're planning to kill me next, then you might aswell do it now, alright?! Because I am—I'm done! Alright? I'm done!"  
"Your journey has only just begun, Ariyana Caswell." The man told me, his face still covered; his voice changed occasionally, "Why would I intend on killing you?"  
"Because you're a murderer." I told him, "YOU'RE A FUCKING MURDERER, AND I WANT MY BROTHER BACK, I WANT MY FAMILY BACK!"  
"You throw murderous accusations at me; calling me a murderer," He began, "When really—You're as bad as I am, Caswell."  
"I have a REASON to kill the Bolton's, alright?" I snapped, "You have no reason to hurt my family; to KILL them!"  
"No—" The man began, "But you have a reason to get vengeance."  
The man held a spear out to me and I took it from him.  
"I'll kill Roose Bolton, Fat Walda, Ramsay Snow, Reek, Myranda." I told him, "But there's just one more person on that list—"  
"And who would that be?" He asked.  
**"You." **


End file.
